Our Wedding

Posted by Aaron


January 21st, 4:30pm (T-Minus 25 Hours)

I'm standing outside the Crosby Street Hotel trying to flag a taxi back to Brooklyn. Anne and I had checked into our room minutes before, where Anne realized she'd left all of her dresses for the weekend (including the white one) in her bedroom closet in Brooklyn. I have one hour to bring the goods back to Manhattan before the rehearsal dinner starts at six.

Now, good fiance that I am, I'd be out here regardless, but this whirlwind trip will also redeem me for a serious faux pas the previous day. See, Anne could be a professional event planner (all of our vendors made that remark at some point), and part of her system was to give all members of the wedding party a detailed PDF itinerary and list of responsibilities for the weekend. Mine included an exhaustive amount of packing, everything from the escort cards to our honeymoon suitcase to my tuxedo. In what I now realize was a gross oversight, I did not read my itinerary, and therefore did not realize I was supposed to help with any of the last minute preparations. So I go out with my friends, then go to the gym, while Anne does everything on my list. Then prints out the list and gives it to me when I get home, without telling me that everything is done, so that I'll say things like, "Honey, have you seen the big suitcase?" and she'll glower and point to it, fully packed. And so on. For the next few hours. This is my punishment.

When I get back to the hotel with her dresses, thirty minutes before dinner is set to begin, I get a big kiss and am absolved of my sins. Like going to the mikvah. 

Drumroll...wedding weekend is underway.

January 21st, 6:30pm (T-Minus 23 Hours)

The rehearsal dinner is at Kittichai Restaurant in SoHo, a swanky Thai restaurant we actually considered as a wedding venue. Great food, intimate company (just the bridal party). Notice in the photo Anne is wearing a dress and not a velour track suit. Go me.

January 22nd, 10:30am (T-Minus 7 Hours)

Anne has just left for her hair appointment, and my best man, Alex, shows up at the hotel with his garment bag and a bottle of bourbon. Time to tie some bow ties.

January 22nd, 11:30am (T-Minus 6 Hours)

An hour has passed, we're drunk, and our bow ties look more like ink stains than neat little hourglasses. We try everything from tying our own to tying each other's to drinking more bourbon to watching YouTube videos. No luck. I'm still wearing a batarang around my neck and Alex looks like priest.

January 22nd, 12:30pm (T-Minus 5 Hours)

There should be a high school class called "Arcane Knowledge" where they teach this sort of thing. Luckily Anne's dad, an expert in old school fashion, has just arrived at the hotel and pops upstairs to bail us out. Ten minutes later, welcome to Sterling Cooper Draper Price.

By now I've fortunately read my itinerary for the day, so I know that it's time to order a light lunch for the crowd that will be arriving shortly for formal pictures. "No coffee, no soda, no ketchup, no colored food or drink of any kind. Protect the dress at all costs." I'll go do that now.

January 22nd, 1:30pm (T-Minus 4 Hours)

The women return from battle and I get my first glimpse of my gorgeous wife to be in her wedding dress. If I were a sentimental man instead of such a stoic, immovable, some might say mountain-esque man, I might have been deeply touched at this moment. Too bad. Time for a mozzarella sandwich and a bottle of water.

January 22nd, 2:30pm (T-Minus 3 Hours)

Let the posed picture taking begin.

Fascinating for the adults. Not so much for the kids. 

Our favorite photo. I take a small movie theater with me wherever I go. 

Sibling rivalry

All together now

January 22nd, 3:30pm (T-Minus 2 Hours)

Formal pictures done, we arrive at the venue (The River Cafe in Brooklyn Heights). Our photographer seems unaware that it's six degrees outside (not kidding) and immediately marches us around the grounds for some nature shots. You can almost see Anne's teeth chattering in this one. She turns to me and asks to switch outfits. I politely decline.

Inside we find everything set up beautifully. Our eight tables are named after the homes Anne and I have lived in, from New Jersey to Long Island to Italy (where we met, studying abroad) to New York. One of Anne's father's many gifts to us throughout the engagement was hand painting a watercolor of each location, which we used instead of table numbers. We also printed smaller versions onto the escort cards for the guests.

January 22nd, 5:30pm (T-Minus 0 Hours It's Go Time)

The plan was to start the walk down the aisle now, and we're lined up in the foyer of the restaurant, but some of the guests have other plans. My uncle has made a wrong turn and is lost in downtown Brooklyn with his family and my grandmother. While we wait, more latecomers shuffle past us apologetically to their seats, and the maître d' whisks Anne out of sight to the (non-wedding) dining room. For the next ten minutes, Anne waits with the hostess and helps greet patrons as they arrive. "Yes, I am getting married tonight. Would you like a seat near the window or a booth by the piano?"

Finally everyone is settled in, Pachelbel is playing, and Anne walks beautifully down the aisle, arm in arm with her parents. The rabbi marries us and doesn't ask if anyone has any objections (thank God). Then I absolutely crush the glass. Like, it doesn't stand a chance. Kapow.

January 22nd, 6:30pm 

After the cocktail hour, Anne and I throw down our first dance: Michael Jackson's Thriller Rod Stewart's It Had to Be You. We'd wanted to do the Frank Sinatra recording but quickly learned that we needed a sloooooow song to dance to if I wasn't going to trip Anne and send her flying into the river, so it had to be Rod Stewart.

There are two main reasons we picked The River Cafe for our wedding. One was the view:

That's us in the glowing tent!

The other was the food. We wanted to treat our guests right, and The River Cafe is one of those few places Zagat describes as "worth going to Brooklyn for." (Note: we live in Brooklyn and love it. The Zagats are a bunch of haters.)

The hors d'oeuvres

The lobster ravioli

The miso glazed cod

The filet mignon

Throughout the meal we had some great toasts, including:

Dana (Maid of Honor): Announced she was going to read aloud emails from when Anne and I had first started dating, at which point Anne lost all color in her face. Fortunately, the excerpts were all PG.

Alex (Best Man): Proclaimed he liked Anne better than any of my "75 previous girlfriends."

John (Anne's dad): Chastised me for not proposing sooner

January 22nd, 10:00pm

Anne wouldn't let me rent a roller coaster for the restaurant parking lot, so I had to settle for the ancient Jewish tradition of hoisting the newlyweds high into the air.  This turned out to be more dangerous than a roller coaster, given the lack of safety standards and the number of drunken Catholic men operating the ride.

January 22nd, 10:30pm

Now our story draws to a close. Out comes the cake, which exactly meets the specifications Anne set forth for the pastry chef: "I have been on a wedding diet for four months, and this cake should be so full of chocolate and buttercream that it threatens to kill the guests." My best estimate is that seven people died instantly from eating the cake so, perfect.

That's all! Thanks for reading the story of our wedding. Take a wedding favor and head back to One Brooklyn Modern for more of my wife's amusing tales of decorating.